Monday, September 20, 2010

Q. Some people believe that university students should be required to attend classes. Others believe that attendance should be optional. Which do you agree with?

A.
Many experts have argued against mandatory attendance on the university level, usually citing that students at this age should be sidled with their own sense of drive and responsibility; it is no one's duty to ensure students show up to classes. However, there are benefits to forcing attendance on unwilling and willing students. Simply put, attendance should be mandatory because of the attendant educational nuances and unreproducible anxiety

Education traffics in nuances. Nothing is up in ours faces for long. Education provides issues that first jump up and then meekly continue to annoy us, the students. Without this annoyance, an idea isn't interesting. Ideas and notions must first annoy us to get our interest until we sit up at night further annoyed that we're awake. The nuance is the answer to why we're awake, the plumbing of our actual annoyance. If we miss class regularly then we don't receive questions and information which, at the moment of root, becomes so firmly entrenched in an area of our brains that it is impossible to unplug. Absent students who collect notes from their classmates miss the nuances and contexts of these annoyance gems. We note-takers might glean the actual information but don't benefit from any of the subtlety of countless annoyingly academic moments.

In addition to promoting nuanced annoyance and the late nights whose fruits lead to brilliance, mandatory attendance induces anxiety. In some forms, anxiety leads to counter-productivity; however, in the classroom, anxiety designs atmospheres which mimic the stress levels found at employment. If we aren't subjected to these levels during our formative student years, we will be rather unprepared for their appearance. An ideal university setting mirrors the same reluctance and anticipation felt by many in the job force. Absenting ourselves from this means we lose out on an inimitable experience and that's why we pay for education. The perks and ancillary benefits are such that we can't reproduce them anywhere else before the seriousness of actual employment begins.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Q. Some people believe that university students should be required to attend classes. Others believe that attendance should be optional. Which do you agree with?

A.
Forces beyond their control or understanding often motivate college students. For this reason, most students, when we ask if they have plans, respond with certain blankness. However, one method students use to assert smaller rights is through missing class. Attendance should be optional because whether you're present has little influence on grading and students will have less opportunity to influence fate.

You can still fail even if you spend the entire semester sitting next to me. I might possibly agree with the grade you've earned regardless of your enduring presence during class hours. When students are present voluntarily it is more obvious they're interested. Vacations fall during times of lull. At this time a compulsory attendance of some rigor could vouch for time off. There is very little investment on the part of disinterested individuals required to sit in classes. They will show no change either checked out or taking part fully engaged. These people, these students, should not be forced but freed. Your attendance indicates your mentality.

A good mentality is within a student who is always present in an optional class and usually rolls with the punches rather than being regarded as really visible. The no-hassle students don't exert influence on daily lessons and activities. Students who manipulate can be relegated at arm's reach. One way to do this is to isolate the students who most likely grub grades. Most students who grub grades grub because they perceive disparities. A guilt spans the great distance between their location and the class being taught. They are too often present to notice that various skill levels exist. Vocabulary attendance would sort and simplify most of these hardships.

Directors will place significance in front of us for our attention. We're sold with the entire significance. First among these objects are actors. In movies, actors often rest surrounded by products. They blend in among so much product. We notice which actor is popular where and which objects contain regional significance in films that show other nations to us. For example, in filming Chocolat, Mr. Depp evinces a firm desire to eat chocolate eternally with Juliette Binoche, a sweet woman. Perhaps this is because chocolate is an important byproduct of worldly economies that we see chocolate play roles in more local pictures of man and woman together, vying for a legitimate relationship. Nevertheless, who wouldn't want to stoke their sweet teeth with handmade chocolates next to a woman in an anonymous French township? In this way, viewers learn that to French citizens, women, self-produced chocolate and drape shirts are significant. Clearly, Johnny Depp's popularity we cannot question.

We also learn about other countries based on what the camera sees we see. What directors leave out are usually not going to advance the plot much. What the director chooses to include suggests audiences in the national arena will find these objects full of meaning. Directors frame scenes for viewers to thank the director repeatedly. To gain sympathy, the same object must come between directors and audiences. We say this exists because a director has illustrated it. In Italian movies, suits and bicycles are significant so the director includes these.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

A. Many times we’re compensated for tasks we have a gross dislike. Frequently, however, we’re paid little to do what we love most. People aren’t compelled to do unlikeable things, but they should still complete actions that disgruntle them, because these lead to rewarding results and often influence our tendencies.

I love doing things I love. This is a vapid statement. Humans must learn to complete tasks which lead them to uncharted territories, and they must learn to avoid vapid statements about nonexistent places. These lands are where lifelong requirements to fulfill our own talent pools. When don’t we dislike taking out the trash? There isn’t a person alive who enjoys trash day. Most of the trash piled up on the sidewalk is a sign that regardless of our hatred of trash, we dispose of our items with discard qualities. We also can’t possible enjoy ridding ourselves of these items, since we live with memories attached to their existence. The memories go into the trash. Nevertheless, seeing those neatly piled bags and smelling their absence the following morning positively proves that trash is simply a task we must repeat.

Finishing accomplishments that we despise doing influences our tendencies. Humans have simple tendencies, and many scientists study how we, like water, tend to follow our dreams. We also call tendencies tastes. We run serpentine among our tastes, but we trickle into what comforts we have. Nothing is awry with this behavior. Tributaries of our dreams happen only when we cast seeds in locations seldom visited. Hatred usually rests in these regions, which is why we rarely linger. Once we do travel there, however, we find our tastes change; suddenly we enjoy throwing trash onto a large pile; we recoil because, once loved, the stench reveals disappointment and is temporary. Trashing offers us completion, like we’re pitching in building a house where no one will dwell. In a house of trash no one resides. But if someone would choose to live there for a minute, their tendencies would change.

Thursday, September 09, 2010

A.Some participants in the game of life only prefer to do what they do well. Others challenge themselves with switches. I am in this list of challengers. According to me, I prefer to engage in even tasks I'm bad at. This way, I am strengthened and I learn new limits.

Whenever I fail, I succeed because what I've actually gained is strength. Imagine we're wearing coats and we notice a hole: now we know where the hole is. Likewise, I gain strength when I embody projects I might fail at or not be too good doing. It is important to remind ourselves that failure exists, is a real thing, not an object but a viscera, in order to really taste success well. When I tried to learn Russian, for example, my deficiencies in my tongue rolling were an obstacle and I realized I would not roll my tongue. I would never attain my dream of sounding like a foreigner speaking Russian.

I also will learn new limits being challenged for the first time. Talent is a reliance on a crutch. Now perfect the idea of the crutch under a different person's arm. I learn new limits to new areas I cannot ever do. I never want a stone unturned. The bottom of every rock is where these limits rest and live. If I perform knowing I haven't upturned even one stone I resent myself. I'm not strong, and I'm not unlimited. With Russian, I never had ideas before I tried about what each undecipherable letter meant. Since attempting to learn Russian, however, I at least see the limits of the Russian alphabet are similar to my own.

Saturday, September 04, 2010

Q. Do you agree or disagree with the following statement? A problem shared is a problem solved.

A. Obviously sometimes the more the merrier. We humans love to share our problems with others. We often hope that others can discuss our problems out loud so to expose the silliness of their tenors. Other times, we hold these problems within to be sacred and unalienable, as if the very existence of problems makes us adults. For now, I prefer to share. If we're going to share we should solve our problems then we can do it together.

Teams address problems differently than even the best therapist does alone. Problems touch down upon individuals, like a car hoisted onto four cinderblocks clearly shouts for mechanics. We together scrutinize the workings and failures of any issue. Just like having an observer constantly over your shoulder, effectively arranging problems among a group is a type of curatorial process. For example, I have problems my friends might not have had. They have problems I've managed to avoid. Together, we can sort these and spread the problematic nature around.

We love to share our problems. Many incorrectly think that problems make us human and adults indeed. However, this is not the first mistake that lands people with more problems. Landed arenas for problems divide a person from actually experiencing locales unaffected by troublesome issues. An area which is free from worry is a place where we adults freely unburden ourselves, even though we heap past issues on a friend group. Our friends' motions in accepting our problems are what distinguish friend levels; we can designate these by terming each level of worry a different color. The group comprehends that a threat level orange group problem ultimately attracts more serious and permanent attention than most lavender-colored problems.

Friday, September 03, 2010

Q. If you could travel back in time or into the future, which would you choose and what exact period of time would you like to experience?

A.Many scientists have wished to travel to other times and places. Some look forward to the future, others glance backward and see promise. Though I'm not a scientific individual, I often desire to return to previous events and influence them. The past holds interest for me since I love history and what's behind us and thanks to my growing older. Let me explain.

We get a foothold in the past and exploit this footing to influence past events. When anyone attains power, they influence the past, present and future. I would like to bet on games with small amounts of money to confuse outcomes, or create media events that reach a majority readership. For example, when we travel to the past we have a stake in what goes on now. If you move a plate on a table, less people will eat in the future. I would make sure that plates equal guests. My influence would therefore be sporting and culinary.

I love history because that's where emergencies are. We often analyze crises and diplomatic blunders. These are all in the past, in history, where I've read them. History is also an area that grows with us but holding onto, we still keep our health. More history is now behind us than in front of us, especially if you're reading this. As we grow up, our ability to influence what is behind us only improves, since there's no looking forward without first setting ourselves up in a position to see forward. For example, if you have bad eyesight, you cannot see the past. I would travel there, since it's probably somewhat your fault.